


Sketches

by LenaVanderquack



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lena's a shadow!, Post-Shadow War, They're both lonely, but very loved, weblena is Later but it's there!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaVanderquack/pseuds/LenaVanderquack
Summary: Lena isn’t sure what grief feels like, but she’s pretty sure whatever she’s feeling right now comes pretty close.Her chest is tight as she can only watch Webby sit on her bed, sketching away in a book. She couldn’t really seen what was being drawn from her position, or Webby’s face as she drew careful lines. She waited patiently for Webby to inevitably change positions, as the girl could barely keep still for too long.The waiting and curiosity wasn’t really what was getting to her. It was the painful quiet that was far too strange when spending time with Webby, who was usually filled with words that spilled out like a waterfall whenever given the chance. It was the fact that whenever Lena opened her mouth, she couldn’t make any sound come out, couldn’t give Webby any sign that 'I’m here, I’m not gone, I promise.'(NOTE: I posted this anonymously at first but now I have my own account so!! here it is!!!)





	Sketches

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I've never written for Ducktales before so please go easy on me!! Not.. really sure if I'll continue? I want to, though, so we'll see!!! I hope you enjoy the duck lesbians!!!!
> 
> EDIT: I had to post this anonymously the first time, but I have my own account now and I'm here!! Hi!! I hope you enjoy my fic!!!!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who left comments, kudos, and bookmarked the original!! I had to repost it so when I make new chapters they will be connected with this account. :c

Lena isn’t sure what grief feels like, but she’s pretty sure whatever she’s feeling right now comes pretty close.

Her chest is tight as she can only watch Webby sit on her bed, sketching away in a book. She couldn’t really seen what was being drawn from her position, or Webby’s face as she drew careful lines. She waited patiently for Webby to inevitably change positions, as the girl could barely keep still for too long.

The waiting and curiosity wasn’t really what was getting to her. It was the painful quiet that was far too strange when spending time with Webby, who was usually filled with words that spilled out like a waterfall whenever given the chance. It was the fact that whenever Lena opened her mouth, she couldn’t make any sound come out, couldn’t give Webby any sign that I’m here, I’m not gone, I promise.

She couldn't bear the look on Webby’s face when she glanced at her bracelet for much longer.

Maybe that look was grief; Lena just couldn’t really comprehend that it was for her. She wasn’t sure she could handle that information either, so she tried not to think about it. Which was kind of hard, being attached to Webby at all times and not really having much else to think about.

In her zoning out, she’d faded back into the shadow, sight fading into dark ever so slightly. Blinking back into focus, she noticed that Webby had moved, leaning back with the book on her knees and right into Lena’s line of sight.

Colorful sketches filled the page, full of characters and people of Webby’s large, strange family. There was a cartoon-y sketch in a corner of Webby and Lena both, standing together and holding hands, surrounded by a pink heart. It was the exact thing a painfully sweet and sentimental girl like Webby would draw, and Lena knows that she shouldn’t have expected anything less, but the sight of it still tugs painfully at her heart.

Webby is still lightly and absent-mindedly coloring it in with a light pink colored pencil, far too gently for it to be dismissed as just some fun coloring for a pastime. Lena moved ever so slightly to look at Webby’s face. Her eyes were unfocused, tired and sad. She had a hard time telling what time it was, her internal clock smashed to pieces, but she was pretty sure it was really late at night.

She wished she could nudge her friend or somehow get her to sleep, but as an intangible shadow, movement and contact wasn’t very effective. She could only settle for watching Webby until she wore herself out at some point.

From her experiences at sleepovers, sleeping wasn’t one of Webby’s talents. Lena wasn’t one for long nights of sleep either, which made sleepovers a recipe for one sleepy disaster with one excitable girl and insomniac teen.

It at least gave them something to do, and filled Lena’s nights with something more than just restlessly laying in a bed in a drafty room under a broken theater with a dark shadow looming over her, yelling, planning, paying no mind to how tired Lena would be the next day. A night in with Webby was much more relaxing and restful than any night at home, no matter how late they stayed up when Webby went on one of her long stories about history or one of her own recent adventures, or maybe a story she wanted to write. Those were her favorite nights, laughing and smiling easily at the ideas that came from Webby’s head.

But these nights weren’t like that anymore. Lena couldn’t exactly “sleep” as a shadow, and Webby didn’t do much when she was by herself.

That was kind of a lie. Webby talked to herself a lot when on her own in her room, researching some strange artifact or practicing moves that made even Lena dizzy. But occasionally, there were the nights like these, where Webby quietly kept to herself in a corner of the room in the silence of the house. It was so unnerving and wrong , and Lena hated it almost as much as she hated being stuck as a shadow, but there wasn’t really much she could do. Except watch.

She sunk back into the shadows a bit. “Stupid Aunt Magica…” she muttered, half expecting the shadow of the woman to pop up behind her and yell something about being ‘disrespectful’ or something, even though that was near impossible.

She watched Webby lounge about on the bed for who knows how long. The room was now only illuminated by a lava lamp next to the bed, casting her shadow against a wall of deep purple.

Lena’s eyes caught on a soft light that wasn’t coming from the lava lamp. Looking up, she noticed that it was coming from…

Webby’s friendship bracelet?

She blinked a few times, just to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. But sure enough, the colorful bracelet wrapped gingerly around Webby’s wrist was glowing a bright pink, a stark contrast to the white paper of the sketchbook that it rested against.

Barely registering what she was doing, Lena reached out, shadow extending across the bed and to the bracelet. The sleepy Webby didn’t seem to notice her movement. Her hand had barely reached the bracelet before the glow strengthened and grew brighter, and Lena let out an inaudible gasp as a softer pink light traveled up her arm, lighting up her form.

And something was… different. Something was always different, but this was different-different. When she moved her other hand, or shifted, she could almost feel the wall against her back. She could move, much more freely than before and she gaped as she looked down at her form.

So focused on this new sensation, she failed to notice something. When she finally looked back to her best friend, she found Webby staring at her with wide, wide eyes that struck Lena to her core.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I know it's kinda short, but I hope you liked it!!! I really love this series a lot. If you wanna find me, or be friends, my twitter is @lenavanderquack


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